


Alive

by victoria_anne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hufflepuff, Romance, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 20:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoria_anne/pseuds/victoria_anne
Summary: She had never felt more alive.





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Harder They Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/296877) by victoria_anne. 



_How rare and beautiful it is to even exist._

\- Sleeping At Last

*

_Don’t fall in love._

_Don’t let anyone fall in love with you._

This was the mantra Brindley had repeated to herself for years, and she repeated it to herself now as she tapped her quill against the edge of her parchment. The essay was for Care of Magical Creatures, and though it was her favourite subject, she found herself unable to concentrate. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; letting thoughts of boys override thoughts of schoolwork.

_“I’d rather spend a few days with you than years with anyone else.”_

A little ball of warmth started in her stomach and spread throughout her body whenever she remembered him say that. She swallowed, writing a single word on her parchment before she had to lift the quill again.

Dating was nothing new to Brindley. She’d been on plenty of dates with plenty of different boys. Nothing was ever serious; she’d mostly say yes to dates to be nice, and to maybe even make a new friend. She’d never let it go further than that. What was the point?

But then there was -

“Er, B? Are you okay?”

Brindley shook herself back into the Hufflepuff common room to find her best friend’s face furrowed with concern. “I’m fine,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Saffron raised an eyebrow at Brindley’s essay. “You’ve written the same word five times now.”

Brindley glanced down at her parchment and sighed, crossing out the four repeated words. Saffron’s wooden bead bracelets clacked together as she reached for the pieces of chocolate the two girls never studied without. “You're thinking about him, aren't you?”

Brindley paused, but she didn't bother playing dumb. She was always thinking about Finn Blishwick, and Saffron knew it.

“I don’t know, Saffy,” Brindley said quietly. “I tried to push him away, but…”

But Finn had refused to leave. Last week, in the greenhouse, Brindley had given him the choice, for who would want to commit to a dying girl? Now he was the only one at Hogwarts - besides Saffron and some of the teachers - who knew about her condition. A condition she now knew was a curse used to kill her mother. It was thanks to Finn she knew that.

Sometimes it scared her how much she could tell him.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know,” Saffron said. “You're entitled to some happiness.”

“It's not my happiness I'm worried about,” Brindley said.

Saffron briefly squeezed Brindley's hand, then turned back to her own essay. Brindley tried to do the same but found she still couldn't concentrate. She raised her fingers to her mouth, almost subconsciously, as if she could still feel that kiss in the greenhouse on her lips. She wished she could; it had been perfect. Better than any of the other kisses they’d shared between them. It felt steadfast somehow, as if their lips coming together was the touch of a quill on parchment, signing a promise.

And if she chose to spend the last of her days with someone, it would be him.

The door of the portrait hole opened, letting in a blonde boy who made Saffron sit up, and a white owl that made Brindley sit up. As Saffron’s hands went to her hair, Brindley held out her arm for Adonis - for the owl could only belong to Finn.

“Why don't you just talk to him?” Brindley asked Saffron, amused, as she untied the note from Adonis’ leg.

“Are you crazy?” Saffron hissed, smoothing hair, then fluffing it up, only to smooth it back down again.

The boy in question, Linus MacPherson, was still in his Quidditch gear despite the game ending hours ago. Even Saffron had played and still managed to change and do homework with Brindley.

“Life's short, Saffy.”

Saffron gave her a little smile. “I know. That's why you need to go and live it. Even if it's with Blishwick,” she added, nodding at the note and wrinkling her nose.

Brindley laughed, scanning the note. It said: _Dungeons, as soon as you're ready. Wear something warm._

She folded the letter again and looked at Saffron. Saffron’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Go,” she said. “I’m having an early night, anyway. Today’s game really took it out of me.”

“We’ll talk soon,” she said, squeezing Saffron’s hand. “I want to hear about your little victory hug with Mr MacPherson over there.”

Saffron’s big green eyes widened further. “You saw that?”

Brindley flushed. In truth it was the only time she’d seen Saffron throughout the whole game. Though Brindley loved Quidditch - the noise, the atmosphere, the excitement - Hufflepuff had played against Slytherin. Throughout the game they’d been using their binoculars to watch each other from opposite ends of the pitch, pulling faces at one another and unsuccessfully trying to lip read. And, of course, Brindley had made a bet with Finn. If Hufflepuff won, she was allowed to tell him all the stupid jokes she wanted, and if Slytherin won, she would have to share her Care of Magical Creatures exam notes with him.

Fortunately for Brindley, Hufflepuff won.

Brindley rushed down the hallway to the room she and Saffron shared. She stripped out of her uniform, pulling a black skirt over her stockings and throwing on a grey jumper, noting dismally how much bigger it was now than when she wore it last. She took an extra dose of the potion that eased the pain in her lungs, not wanting them to embarrass her further by her coughing up the thick black stuff that sat on them. She’d already spent two nights this week in the hospital - she wasn't about to do it again.

Finn was waiting for her outside of Professor Slughorn’s office in the dungeons. Brindley saw him before he noticed her, and she paused behind a stone pillar to enjoy the sight of him; his face relaxed and unguarded. Black hair that was getting too long and now curled at his temples and neck, deep blue eyes that once managed to look down on her despite them being almost the same height, a full lower lip that he was currently running his thumb over, and that she wanted to feel all over her body. He wasn't tall or muscular, but he still had an air of arrogance around him that commanded attention. She supposed it came from being born a Blishwick. He was more handsome than Tom Riddle, in her opinion, though she knew half the girls in her year would disagree.

Finn saw her then; his face lit up and he pushed off from the wall. His grin was usually mischievous, but now there was a matching glint in his eye as he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Let me guess,” she said, “you found a cure for your rash.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I have _not_ got a rash!”

Her laugh was quickly smothered as he kissed her. It was only brief, as most of their physical touches were, but it didn't stop her heart from beating erratically.

And if his touch made her heart skip a beat, his surprise made it stop altogether.

He took her to the top of one of Scotland’s mountains, using whatever charm and influence Finn had over others. Normally Brindley preferred humility in others, but for tonight she wasn't complaining. The sun was setting under the peak, lighting half the trees of the forest below them in orange. The wind was freezing, and it made her chest ache, though she tried not to show it. But soon his arms were around her, and she leaned back into his warmth gratefully.

“What is this about?” Brindley asked, watching a flock of birds swoop and play among the treetops in the distance. “My birthday isn’t until August.”

Brindley felt a tiny shiver go through Finn, but she didn't think it had anything to do with the cold. He was watching the birds as well, and he hated anything with wings. Brindley loved them.

“Well…” Finn said. “It’s not Brocken Mountain. There’s no spectre, it’s not April thirtieth, and there’s no demons - that I know of anyway. But there’s plenty of room for you to dance.”

Oh, Finn.

He remembered. He remembered what she told him during one of their first meetings; how she said it would be fun to dance on a mountain like witches on Walpurgis Night. Tears pricked her eyes, and she quickly wiped at them. He had done this for her.

Finn sat on a rock and waved his wand at the little radio sitting by the tent. “This is all yours,” he said. “Your chance to dance on top of a mountain.”

The song was lively and infectious. Brindley loved to dance. She loved to lose herself in music, to feel weightless as she spun, and though it was bad to put strain on it, she loved to make her heart race just so she could feel it pound against her chest. Soon, she was pulling Finn to his feet to join her, and they danced together as song after song played.

When a slow one started, they took the opportunity to catch their breath, putting their arms around each to sway gently on the spot. Brindley was so happy she thought it a wonder that it wasn’t coming out of her like a physical thing; that the warm light inside her wasn’t making her glow under the skin. She held Finn tighter, tilting her face slightly to kiss him. The wind picked up and blew over them, so cold it was as if it carried shards of ice. Finn pulled away, and before she had time to pout at her loss of lips and warmth, he had hooked an arm under her legs and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a laugh as he carried her to the tent.

They fell into it with Finn half on top of her. She wriggled, trying to find a comfortable position, but it wasn’t difficult; Finn was kissing her again and anywhere with him was where she wanted to be. His mouth moved down to her neck, his hair tickling her chin. She loved his hair; black as ink until the sun caught the shades of brown scattered through it. How her fingers always itched to push it back from his forehead, and now she could it all she liked. She tilted her head back. The beautiful song from outside could be heard; it didn’t get any more romantic than this.

The wind couldn’t reach them here; she pulled her jumper over her head, leaving her in a white top, as Finn saw to her stockings; pulling them down her legs with such deliberate slowness she thought it might kill her. But she didn’t want to go slow. She didn’t want to be treated with gentleness, as she had her whole life. As if she were a china doll in a child’s hand, and one slip would break her into a million pieces. So when Finn threw her stockings away and came forward to kiss her again, Brindley pushed him back and climbed onto his lap. He looked surprised, but pleased, digging his fingers into her waist as she kissed his throat. His breath was hot and fast on her shoulder, and even through their clothes she could feel the hardness of him pressing against the inside of her thigh. Both of their shirts were discarded and Brindley ran her hands over the smooth planes of his chest. She ground her hips against him, and he groaned again; she loved that she could have this effect on him. Brindley reached for his belt, but he froze and pulled back.

“What is it?” Her voice was hoarse; she hadn’t even noticed her lungs aching until now. It was as if being apart from him was the cause of her pain, and not a curse on her lungs. “Don’t you want me?”

He swallowed. “It’s just… Are you sure? What about your breathing?”

The ache in her chest grew stronger, but not because of any condition; it was her heart, whole and full and as it should be. Finn was looking at her with so much affection. Brindley never let herself think she could have this; someone who knew her as well as she knew herself. Someone who took on her fate as their own. Someone who looked at her like she was the only other person in the world.

Brindley always thought that being alone, focusing on herself and what she wanted to do, was the only way to spend the little time she had left in her life. But now she knew she had hardly been living at all. She remembered a time, months ago, when she had told Finn that she didn’t need saving. Now Brindley could see that she did, and without either of them even realizing, Finn had done it. He had saved her. She gently touched her forehead to his. “I am not going to break, Finn.”

He lowered her back onto the blankets, his eyes trailing across her stomach, kneeling between her legs. Well, if he wanted something to look at… She freed the clasp of her brassiere and threw the garment away.

His eyes slid slowly over her body. Softly, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

Despite his words, she felt suddenly shy, exposed under the gaze of this boy who was twice as beautiful as her. Finn placed a finger on her collarbone, letting out a soft laugh.

Brindley froze. “What? What is it?” Had he finally realized how sick and pitiful she looked?

“This.” Finn was touching a small scar near her shoulder she’d had for as long as she could remember.

“It’s a scar,” she said defensively.

“It’s shaped like a _perthro_ rune,” he said.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but in actuality, she was impressed. His passion for runes was something that never ceased to amaze her. He was smart, no matter how much he pretended not to be.

Finn leaned back on his elbow to show her the birthmark on his hip. “I have one, too.”

She touched the small brown mark - shaped like an upside down _U_ \- gently with a fingertip, taking the opportunity to appreciate the lines that started on his waist and disappeared beneath his trousers. “And what does it mean?”

Finn caught her fingers in his. “Strength,” he said quietly. “But sometimes I…” He broke off, swallowing.

“You _are_ strong, Finn.”

His eye focused on the bruising on her chest and ribs, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Did he think they were ugly? She began breathing through her nose to hide the rasping of her breath.

Quietly, he said, “For now.”

Tears were building behind Brindley’s eyes, but she blinked them away. Finn put her before himself - more than once now. This - committing to one another - was just as hard for her as it was for him, but she knew eventually he would have to be stronger one.

“For always,” she said. “I know there’s been something on your mind lately; I see it in your face.” How some days he looked so very tired, or when she’d catch him staring out of the window, chewing at his lower lip.

His eyes widened.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she added quickly, and meant it. Lord knows she was used to living with secrets of her own. How she hated for anyone to ask her what was wrong when she was constantly coughing into a handkerchief, why she was missing classes to go to the hospital all the time. The less people knew about her, the better. If Finn was going through something similar, she would respect that. “I know you're scared, Finn, but you're stronger than you know.”

“I will never do anything to hurt you,” he said, and now, in the black of his pupils where she saw sadness, she saw fierceness.

“I know,” she said, because it was true.

The sadness was still evident in his eyes. But that wasn't what tonight was about. Tonight was for living. Tonight was for dancing and laughing and kissing. They were on top of a _mountain_ , for Merlin’s sake. So she reached for his hands and placed them on her breasts. It had the effect she hoped for. He groaned, and the sound set her heart racing. He kissed her again. His hands, as hot as an open flame, squeezed her breasts, thumbs grazing over her nipples until she gasped involuntarily. Finn took his mouth from hers to place a trail of kisses along her jaw, down her neck, her chest, until he was on her breast. She arched her back, tangling her fingers in his hair.

His touch was confident, expert. She wasn’t an idiot; she knew he’d had plenty of lovers in the past. But now he was hers. Handsome, arrogant, spoiled, and adored Finn Blishwick was hers. Brindley could never be close enough to him, she decided.

Except, she could. Wriggling under him, she reached to undo his belt, and this time he didn’t stop her. He kicked off his trousers, and then his underwear, running his fingers along the edge of her own. She lifted her hips to help him pull them off. He came back up to kiss her, and she could feel how much he wanted her as he pressed against her belly. He tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear.

Brindley couldn't even feel the pain in her chest that was her constant companion. It was like he was the cure, and she didn't want that to ever go away. She whispered, “Stay with me, Finn.”

“Always,” he said, and after taking a moment to position himself, he moved his body forward.

Brindley gasped as he slid inside her. She clutched his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist, bringing him even closer.

“God, Brindley -” he was saying into her neck, the rest becoming muffled and incoherent.

She tilted her head back. With this boy in her arms, Brindley could almost see through the worn material of the tent and into the sky above, littered with stars, and the moon shining down on them. She looked back at Finn, more beautiful than any star. Her hands roamed over his back, digging her nails into his skin, urging him deeper. She kissed the curve between his neck and shoulders, her own moans mingling with the sweat on his skin as his thrusts came faster and faster.

Finn’s cry was lost in her hair, and he collapsed against her, heart thudding in unison against hers. He kissed her chin, her temple, her nose. He blew into her ear and she laughed as a shiver went through her. She playfully nudged him away. Finn rolled off her and onto his side, where he looked up at her with a grin, looking very pleased with himself. This smile was a rare, genuine one, not the fake one she knew he put on for teachers or when he wanted something to go his way, which was often. This one transformed his whole face, made him look as young as he was, and not someone who held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She smoothed the hair sticking to his forehead. His face was flushed, eyes bright, and she imagined she looked much the same. Brindley’s bones felt as though they had turned to jelly; the only muscle that wasn't relaxed was her mouth, because it was smiling.

Finn stretched out his arms, and she went into them. He held her tightly, and she all but melted into him, resting her head on his chest where his heart thudded against her ear, slowly returning to its steady resting pace. For all the magic in the world, she had found the best kind. They lay entwined together for a long time, Finn stroking the bare skin of her back.

“Finn?” she said after a while.

“Mm?” he said sleepily.

“What do you get when a dragon sneezes?”

He was quiet for a moment before he sighed and said under his breath, “That stupid bet.” Then, louder, “I don’t know.”

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Out of the way!”

His chest vibrated beneath her cheek as he laughed. “You’re weird,” he said, then added in a low voice, “but I’m glad you’re mine.”

Brindley lifted herself up on her elbow so she could look down on him. His hair was messy from her handiwork. His eyes, the blue almost black in the dim light, were hooded with drowsiness, but they slowly widened with interest as she swung a leg over his body so that she was sitting on his hips.

“Say that again,” she whispered.

He tilted his head, fingertips running lazily up and down her thighs. “You’re weird?”

She tickled his ribs, causing him to squirm beneath her with an exclamation. “Not that,” she said.

Finn caught her hand before she could dig it into his ribs again and kissed her palm. “You're mine,” he murmured.

She leaned forward to kiss him, slowly and deeply, her hair falling onto his chest. His fingers lightly trailed up her ribs, brushing the side of her breast. He was soft underneath her, but as she sucked on his bottom lip and ground her hips against him that began to change. They made love again, and again, and as Brindley finally fell asleep in Finn’s arms, she decided she could spend the rest of her life like this; under the stars on a mountain with Finn.

She had never felt more alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to banshee for looking over this for me and dreamgazer220 for the encouragement!


End file.
